


Of burnt books and courting Crowley

by robynvite



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Drunk Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Pining, Pining Crowley, Smitten Crowley, aziraphale courts crowley, aziraphale says 'oh' a lot because apparently thats how he talks in my head, aziraphale would absolutely lose it over the burning of that book, crowley and anathema are friends fight me, crowley stammers, dramatic crowley, flirting aziraphale, post-armageddon't, shy crowley, soft Crowley, they dance in this too, this used to be tagged mature but i was informed that 'teen and up' is more fitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robynvite/pseuds/robynvite
Summary: On Newt and Anathema's engagement party, a year after Armageddon't, Aziraphale finds out two pieces of very startling news: One, Newt and Anathema burned the sequel to Agnes Nutter's Nice and Accurate Prophecies. Two, Crowley was in love with him, and had been since the Beginning. His reaction to one of these is to quietly figure out a game plan, and to subsequently calmly and determinedly execute that plan. His reaction to the other is to break a champagne glass with his bare hand.Part Two, Crowley's POV: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21532873/chapters/51329284





	1. Startling news

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first ever fic I've posted, so be gentle! I mostly wrote this because Aziraphale would not be chill about the fact that Anathema and Newt burned that book

**Chapter 1** **:** **Startling news**

It was Newt’s and Anathema’s engagement party. Naturally, Aziraphale had been delighted to receive an invite- whilst they had hit the poor girl with Crowley’s car and driven her home, and then they had stood against the end of the world together, they really hadn’t spoken much. Nevertheless, it was not common to be able to interact with humans without having to pretend to be human himself. He would gladly take the opportunity to get to know the pair better, perhaps finally make some mortal friends without having to drop out of their lives as soon as it became apparent he did not age.

He rang up Crowley as soon as he had received the letter.

‘I presume you have been invited to the engagement festivities, as well?’ he asked.

‘What?’ Crowley asked, a bit distractedly. ‘Whose?’

‘Oh- dear. Uh, the lovely couple, Newt and Anathema- the witchfinder and the witch, so to say. Of the end times?’

‘Already?’ Crowley asked. ‘They’re sure moving at the speed of light. Uh, nah, no, I didn’t get one.’

That was a bit of an exaggeration, it had been well over a year since the end times. ‘Oh,’ Aziraphale said, awkwardly. ‘Perhaps they’ve- it may have gotten lost?’

‘Lost in the post?’ Crowley drawled.

‘Yes, quite! Surely, they would not just invite me, that would be rather rude.’

‘Well, they’d want their union blessed, nor damned, I s’ppose,’ Crowley mused. He did not sound like he minded much, but Aziraphale felt very awkward about the whole situation.

‘Now, don’t be silly, dear boy,’ he said. ‘You haven’t damned anyone in a long while- you saved the world, mind!’

‘Hey, I damn – people! Things! Used to, anyways, but I’m retired. Anyways, I’m just playing with you,’ Crowley said, with a chuckle. ‘I got the invite.’

‘Oh! Now, why must you always do that,’ Aziraphale huffed, but he felt relieved. He’d been seeing a good deal more of Crowley since the Not-Apocalypse, of Armageddon’t, as Crowley called it, and would feel rather disappointed if he would have to attend such an event by himself. 

‘It’s fun. S’ppose you’d like a ride there?’

‘Well, if we’re both heading there,’ Aziraphale said.

‘You only have to ask, angel,’ Crowley said. ‘I’ll pick you up ‘round eight.’

‘It starts at eight!’ Aziraphale protested.

‘We’d be fashionably late. That’s probably one of mine,’ Crowley said. ‘But turning up exactly at the starting time is as demonic as turning up an hour late, in my book.’

‘Let’s compromise, then,’ Aziraphale said reasonably. And perhaps he turned on his Pout (as Crowley called it) a bit, which was always quite effective on his demonic friend. Even over the phone.

Sure enough- ‘Alriiight,’ the demon sighed. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven fifteen. Ciao.’

The line went dead promptly. Aziraphale wasn’t worried- Crowley always wanted to avoid being thanked or complimented on doing something nice. Even now, after he could technically drop the pretense that he was a mean wily demon, he held on to that self-image. But at least Crowley had never pretended they weren’t friends, as Aziraphale had done, so he let it go.

. . .

With Crowley’s driving style, they got there rather promptly, still. Aziraphale fretted a bit, for the form of things, but he was rather pleased not to be too late. Still, better not to let Crowley know, or he’d be unbearably smug, and would never stop driving like a maniac.

The party wasn’t too busy, but there were some people. Aziraphale and Crowley rather stood out amongst the crowd. As result, they were greeted quickly.

‘Crowley!’ Anathema greeted as if they were quite close. Crowley grinned easily at her, lifting a hand. Newt hovered a bit awkwardly, and gave a half wave back.

‘And Aziraphale,’ Anathema said, a bit more formally, but still smiling widely. ‘Nice of you to come!’

‘Oh, it’s my pleasure!’ Aziraphale ensured.

‘Hit anyone on the way here, Crowley?’ Anathema asked, gesturing for them to come further.

‘Nah,’ Crowley said, easily, taking a glass of champagne and passing one on to Aziraphale, seemingly without thinking about it. ‘I only do that when it’s Fated, apparently.’

‘You do have a habit of meeting people as result of unfortunate car mishaps,’ Newt said, to Anathema.

‘Yes, well, thank-‘ she glanced at the angel and demon- ‘thank whoever for that.’

At that point, new guests arrived. ‘Just a second,’ Anathema smiled at them, and tugged Newt along to greet them. A cacophony of standard polite greetings ensued.

‘Oh, dear, I hadn’t even congratulated them, or given my gift!’ Aziraphale fretted.

‘There’ll be time for that, angel,’ Crowley ensured. He was leaning against one of those tall tables that were designed especially for these sort of garden parties, to pretend there was no need to invest in chairs. He hadn’t dressed up specifically for the occasion, but then, nor had Aziraphale, who was always in formal attire. Still, he looked quite dashing in the light of the fairy lights which were spread across the garden.

‘You seemed rather chummy with her,’ the angel noted, suddenly.

Crowley shrugged, seemingly casual but a bit self-consciously under that, as ever when he had done something particularly undemonic. ‘We’ve kept in touch, after Armageddon’t.’

‘Really!’

‘Well, uh- it’s- I’ve never spoken plainly with humans about- well, anything significant,’ Crowley said, a tad awkwardly. ‘I was curious what it’d be like with one that knows about it all. Besides, I wanted to know if the prophecies had anything else in store for u- me.’

Aziraphale hummed. Crowley always knew how to surprise him. ‘And the boy too?’

‘Newt? No, he’s rather dull.’

‘Crowley, now, really,’ Aziraphale tutted.

Crowley grinned at him, waving an arm and sloshing the champagne in its glass. ‘He is! You’d agree with me, you know.’

‘I would not!’ Aziraphale said, indignantly. ‘He seems like he’s a very nice boy.’

‘Alright, I suppose you’d know,’ Crowley drawled, still grinning and giving one of his winks, sounding not at all like he was conceding the point.

Still Aziraphale nodded contently. He _would_ know.

‘He convinced Anathema to burn part two of Agnes Nutter’s prophecies,’ Crowley said, casually, glancing across the garden as he said so.

The next thing Aziraphale knew was that his hand and sleeve were thoroughly wetted and sticky with champagne and blood, as he’d promptly squeezed his glass a little too hard. It stung quite annoyingly.

‘Oh, dear,’ he said, faintly. All eyes in the garden were on him.

‘Oh,’ Crowley said, not at all teasingly anymore. ‘Oh, idiot,’ he hissed, taking Aziraphale’s hand in his own and inspecting it for leftover glass shards, the tenderness of his touch a sharp contrast with his words.

Anathema was at their side rather quickly. ‘What happened?’ she asked worriedly.

‘Oh, my dear girl, I am so sorry,’ Aziraphale said. ‘I hadn’t meant to cause a scene- I am not sure what happened!’

‘We’ve got to get you cleaned up, and bandage that,’ Anathema said.

‘Oh, but your guests! Surely, I can manage, if you point me to your bathroom.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Crowley said, waving Anathema off. He tugged Aziraphale inside, very gently, still holding his hand. He made his way to the kitchen easily, which made it quite apparent he’d been there before. Aziraphale followed a bit dumbstruck- whether it was by the startling information, or Crowley’s soft and tender touch, he wasn’t sure. He was suddenly painfully aware that in 6000 years, they had never touched very much at all.

In the kitchen Crowley moved his hand over Aziraphale’s slowly, healing the skin instantly.

‘Oh, but the guests will have seen -’

Crowley shushed him and grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet.

‘How’d you know-?’ Aziraphale started, but was shushed again. Crowley quietly bandaged Aziraphale’s already healed hand.

Then he looked up, looking serious. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think you’d do that.’

‘Well- nor did I.’ Then Aziraphale remembered why he’d done so. ‘Did you lie, then? You did, didn’t you! It was a prank!’

‘No,’ Crowley said, regrettably. ‘Well, I told you to make you regret sticking up for him when I knew you’d resent him for that, but it’s true.’

‘She burned the only version of unpublished, completely accurate prophecies! Oh- how foolish! Where on earth had he gotten that idea?’

Crowley lifted his hands in defense, thereby finally letting go of Aziraphale’s, who was distinctly aware of the loss of touch. ‘Wasn’t me, angel. I’m not too pleased about it, either.’

Aziraphale started pacing the kitchen. ‘I can’t even imagine- why? Why?’

He looked at Crowley, who was shifting guiltily. His friend truly hadn’t meant to upset him so.

‘Why did she do it?’ he asked, suspecting that if Crowley and she had apparently been in touch, he’d know.

‘Uh, she’d been living her life dictated by the prophecies. With Armageddon’t, she thought she’d be free to fill in her own life, and then she got even more prophecies. She didn’t want to be a descendant, forever.’

‘Well, but! She didn’t have to _burn it!_ She could’ve given them to me!’

The kitchen rattled a bit with the agitated energy that was rolling of Aziraphale. Crowley lifted his hands again, as if Aziraphale’s indignation was aimed at him.

‘Surely,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Something can be done. She will have, she will have seen that Anathema would burn the book, would she not? Surely, another version must exist.’

‘If that’s true, it’ll find us when we need it,’ Crowley said. ‘Agnes would know when and how to get it to us. Or to Anathema.’

‘And she’ll burn it again! No, we must try to find it ourselves.’

Crowley looked like he was going to argue, but then sighed. ‘Alright, angel.’

‘Really? You’ll help?’

‘Yeah, retirement has been boring, anyways,’ Crowley said, but Aziraphale knew that was a lie. Crowley was more glad than anyone to be relieved of his demonic duties- he’d never been very good at them, anyways, he was way too nice. He hadn’t stopped fooling himself about the latter part, however. 

‘Shouldn’t we go back to the party, first, though?’

‘Oh, right,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Yes, I suppose.’ He would feel quite resentful to the happy pair, if resentful was an emotion angels could feel. But he was an angel, so he did not feel resentful. No, not even a little. Perhaps a bit of righteous rage, but the Heavens had never blinked at rage were it Righteous, right?

Crowley grinned a bit at him, as if quite aware of Aziraphale’s inner turmoil.

‘Come on then, angel.’

They stepped back out, and Crowley got Aziraphale a new flute of champagne, with the promise not to startle him into destroying it anymore. Some guests came to see if Aziraphale was alright, and also probably to sniff out the story. Aziraphale realized he should have come up with a cover story. Now, he babbled out a weak ‘I don’t know my own strength, do I, dear?’ And Crowley had looked at him the way he had looked in the Golden Globe, when Aziraphale had cheered on Hamlet. It made him feel very warm, and slightly berated.

At some point, however, Newt made his way over to them, smiling, and Aziraphale felt himself fill with Righteous Rage once more.

‘Hey, guys,’ Newt said.

‘Witchfinder Private Newton Pulsifer,’ Crowley drawled.

‘Oh, don’t,’ he said, slightly embarrassed.

‘You found your witch, though,’ Crowley grinned.

He smiled again, very happily. ‘Yes, that I did.’ He looked over at Aziraphale and his very sudden icy demeanor, and his smile sank. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, worriedly.

‘Hm? Oh, quite,’ Aziraphale said, stiffly. He looked at his bandaged hand. ‘It was nothing, and Crowley took care of it, in any case.’

He was distinctly aware of his short tone. Newt seemed to be too, looking nervous. Well, Aziraphale was holding himself back, anyhow. There were mafia mobsters who had visited his shop who could attest to that.

‘Ah, uh, yeah,’ Crowley said, probably very aware of the wrath of heaven. ‘Witchfinder, why don’t we find your witch? I have a minor demonic miracle of your choosing as gift for your, uh, betrothal.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Newt said, hastily. ‘Yes, come along!’

Crowley followed him, turning around while walking and mouthing ‘Calm! Down!’ before turning around again.

Aziraphale didn’t know whether he felt relieved or abandoned. Anyhow, it was apparent it was intended as a nice gesture by Crowley- but whether it was nice for Aziraphale or for Newton, he wasn’t so sure. Probably the latter, but quite undeservedly so.

Nevertheless- he always enjoyed chatting with humans, and went to do so now. When he had made a couple of rounds, he decided to go looking for Crowley, again. Just to check whether the demonic miracle wasn’t too demonic, he told himself. He wandered around a bit, spotted but avoided Newt, and wandered further into the quieter part of the garden.

There, he saw Anathema and Crowley on a bench, talking, their turned backs to him. He was about to call out an ‘Ah, there you are!’ when he heard his name mentioned.

‘All our relatives think you and Aziraphale are a lovely married couple,’ Anathema said, a smile in her voice.

Crowley shrugged. ‘We get that a lot.’

Did they? Aziraphale tried to recall instances of that. But he’d never been very in tune with these things, despite the fact that he was sure he was a lot more social than Crowley. Crowley had always been better in decoding hidden messages in the things people said, while Aziraphale tended to take things at face value.

‘Did you tell him yet?’

‘Course not,’ Crowley said, a bit shortly.

‘Crowley, if you see the way he looks at you! If you’d seen how he looked when you held his hand, just now!’

‘Oh, shut it. Listen, I can barely get him to admit we’re friends,’ Crowley said, a bit morosely. ‘I’ve known him for 6,000 years.’

Aziraphale was distinctly aware of his own beating heart. What kind of conversation was this? It couldn’t be what he was imagining, could it?

‘You could just try it?’

‘I’ve tried,’ Crowley said. ‘I have! I’ve thrown hints around like anything. I do anything he asks! I’ve asked him to run away with me- twice! He rejected me. And he told me I go to fast for him- that wasn’t about my driving, I know that much.’

‘Yes, because your driving is so great. Look, Aziraphale is the most oblivious person in the universe,’ Anathema said. ‘He may just have been missing all your hints.’

‘If he felt the way I feel, he wouldn’t, though,’ Crowley said. He sounded like he was sulking. ‘He’d get it if he was looking for it. He’s not dumb.’

‘You have been pining for 6,000 years,’ Anathema said. ‘It’s time to do something about it.’

‘Nah, no, no, I’m good,’ Crowley said. ‘I don’t actually mind this thing we’ve got now- we’ve been spending more time together since Armageddon’t. It’s nice. Besides, if I’m spending the next 6,000 years with him, I don’t want to make it awkward. Oh, and he’d be the worst at _pity - ’_ Crowley said the last word as if it were poisonous, ‘he’d be all nice about it. No, Anathema, I won’t do it.’

She slung an arm around his shoulder. Aziraphale felt quite certain he’d shake it off, but he didn’t.

‘Maybe Part Two of the prophecies would’ve contained some prophecy about the two of us,’ Crowley said, bitterly.

‘Make your own fate. Agnes’ prophecies only said I would sleep with Newt once, and now we’re engaged!’ Anathema said.

Crowley’s head snapped up. ‘You’re saying he told you to burn that book because he wanted to get _laid?’_

‘No! My point is -’

But it was too late, Crowley had begun laughing already. Aziraphale felt decidedly less amused.

Anathema hit Crowley on his head, softly, ignoring his ‘oi!’. ‘My point is, you shouldn’t rely on a prophecy to make your move. You should just do it.’

‘I haven’t for 6,000 years, and I’m not gonna, and that’s the end of that,’ Crowley said.

Anathema sighed. ‘Fine,’ she admitted.

Aziraphale felt he’d heard quite enough, and slunk back, wanting to think about everything first. The facts were clear. Crowley had feelings, for him, Aziraphale, and had done for as long as they had known one another. He was certain Aziraphale would not return these feelings, and would not mention them for this reason, apparently sure that things would get Awkward. Oh gosh.

The truth was, Aziraphale did not really know how he would have responded, had Crowley confessed his feelings to him. It was very likely he would have made things Awkward, in sheer shock.

How was it even possible, that a demon would develop feelings for an angel? Then again, they had developed a friendship, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising... And how had he not noticed? Crowley said he’d been throwing around hints- and sure, he had known that some of their conversations had held deeper meanings. He had known the significance of his comment that Crowley went too fast for him. But he hadn’t quite known how heartbreaking it must have been.

Damn it.

‘Angel?’

Damn it. Aziraphale hadn’t thought of a game plan yet.

‘What are you doing here by yourself?’ Crowley asked, approaching. Aziraphale looked around. Ah, he’d been standing by a bush with lovely roses, staring into space. Perfectly normal.

‘You’re not still moping about that book?’ Crowley sighed.

‘It _is_ a travesty,’ Aziraphale took the excuse, hastily.

‘Yeah, yeah. Look, I figured you’d be too upset about it to do your gift, so I gave them a demonic and a regular miracle from the both of us. All good? Maybe we should head back soon. Maybe we can do a drink at the bookshop, huh?’

‘Oh, thank you! Uh. I am actually rather- rather tired. But yes, we ought to head back.’

Crowley squinted at him. ‘You don’t sleep.’

‘No,’ Aziraphale said, weakly. ‘Ah, I am just. That book, you see?’

‘... Right,’ Crowley said. ‘Off we go, then. You wanna say bye?’

‘Yes, I suppose I should. Just a moment.’ 

He approached Anathema and Newt. ‘Thank you for the invitation,’ he said. ‘And congratulations with your engagement.’

‘Oh, thanks, Aziraphale,’ Anathema said, friendly. ‘Have a good trip home.’

Somehow, Aziraphale felt quite resentful that Anathema knew more about Crowley and his feelings than he had.

‘Don’t burn anymore books,’ he said, sternly.

They both had the decency to look guilty. Aziraphale turned around with a good-bye, because he was not impolite. Crowley was waiting, looking amused.

‘You know they’re more scared of you than of me,’ he said, as they got into the Bentley.

‘Well, you are quite the, uh, ‘softie,’ Aziraphale said, still terse.

In revenge, Crowley drove completely madly until Aziraphale apologized. After that, it was rather quiet in the car, on their way back. Crowley made some attempts to conversation, but stopped when it became apparent Aziraphale was distracted.

When they stopped in front of the bookshop, he drummed his fingers on the wheel once. ‘Listen, angel, it’s gonna be okay, about that book.’

Aziraphale smiled a bit at Crowley. ‘Yes, well. I will see you later, then.’ He gave a half wave and turned around. He felt Crowley’s eyes on his back as he walked hastily to the shop, intending to think it all over.


	2. Of musings and drunk demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale thinks it all over. Crowley gets drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are liking this at all!

**Chapter 2** **:** **Of musings and drunk demons**

In the bookshop, Aziraphale spent quite some time, mulling it all over. First, he dissected the more meaningful beautiful moments in their Arrangement, with the new perspective of Crowley’s feelings. Then, he dissected them again, trying to identify the warm and flustered feelings he tended to get whenever the demon did something particularly nice, or clever, or... appealing.

Then he did the same with their fights and disagreements. He mulled over Crowley’s absence of the 19th century, and how lonely it had been, and how worried he had been. He went over all the times that he had denied their friendship, even if he had known very well it had been exactly that- a friendship. Back then, however, he had felt the pressure of his head office pressing on his shoulders. He had also been deeply into denial, in order to justify the entire existence of the Arrangement to himself.

That all was finished, now, though. Sure, the reprieve of Heaven may be temporarily, for all they knew, but they had decided they were on their own side now. They- or rather Aziraphale- had acknowledged their friendship. Crowley had done so from the start.

Now, he was wondering whether his feelings ran deeper than a warm friendship, anyways. As an angel and a demon, who had literally been around forever, these things were different. They were eternally bounded, he felt like. They were a pair, two sides of the same coin. They had been since the beginning, since the Garden, even if they hadn’t known it then. Love, yes, he loved Crowley, and Crowley him. To denote it with human terms, would that not be rather silly? They were not humans. Moreover, they had seen the development of the monogamous relationship and nuclear family as a fabrication deeply intertwined with culture and the demands of industrial capitalism.

But then, love was not only a human thing. Love was Heavenly, as well. Love for creation, for people. It had been around since the beginning. And Crowley and him loved one another, even if they had never said so out loud. Since the beginning of the end times, it had become clearer and clearer.

Humans had created a distinction between platonic, familial and romantic love. Aziraphale knew one thing- his love for Crowley was nothing like familial. He had seen male friends so close that they referred to one another as brothers- they had never expressed such a sentiment. He had to figure whether his love for Crowley was platonic or romantic, however. The human terms seemed highly inadequate for the complexity of their friendship. Still, it was clear Crowley loved him romantically, and was convinced this was unreturned.

Crowley also had a complicated relationship to himself, of course. He had claimed himself unforgiveable, being a demon. It followed quite naturally he would feel himself unlovable. Aziraphale huffed. Whatever the extent of his feelings, he would have to make sure Crowley understood that was not the case. But he had to figure out the extent of his feelings first, so that he would not accidentally hurt Crowley.

But how to discern these things? He felt warm towards Crowley, fond of him, and protective of him. He could not bear the idea of continuing his existence on earth without Crowley near. And he had craved their moments of contact, throughout the centuries, always pleased when the demon showed up. Not only because Crowley had often been saving his skin, but also because of their conversation, their interactions. He did not like the idea of being apart for any extended period, anymore.

It seemed to him they already had a Relationship. That word bothered him too- everything was a relationship, so it was hugely inadequate to designate romantic involvement. They had also always been Together, even if it was dispersed over the centuries. Were their love romantic, what would that change, exactly? Maybe it was needless to designate their Love as anything, as long as they started acknowledging it. Who cared for the nuances? It was an all-consuming Love, anyways. Surely, that was enough. 

All this thinking led Aziraphale to isolate himself in his shop for days on end. He did not call on Crowley in these days. He wanted to figure this out first, or possibly drown himself in thoughts trying to. However, Crowley also did not call on him, which was strange, Aziraphale realized after about a week. It was often Crowley to instigate their contact, popping up where Aziraphale was. Still, they used to go decades before seeing one another again. Only they had been seeing each other regularly since Armageddon’t, and Aziraphale did not want to give that up. Perhaps Crowley had been feeling rejected, again. Aziraphale had used a very weak excuse for not doing a drink after the engagement party, and perhaps Crowley was sulking about it.

Only Crowley could always see right through Aziraphale, and Aziraphale still hadn’t figured it out. Seeing him would complicate things, or lead to conversations Aziraphale was not ready for yet. But what if a week turned into a decade? It happened easily. Aziraphale did not want that to happen. Should he call Crowley?

They did have the whole book issue- perhaps he could say he had been researching the past week but hadn’t come up with anything, and had Crowley any ideas? It would be a good cover and a good cause. Aziraphale had been hiding things from his bosses for thousands of years. He could hide this small thing from Crowley, couldn’t he?

He called him before he could think about it any further.

Crowley answered after a few rings. ‘Zira?’ he asked, his name more a slur than word.

‘Oh dear, are you alright?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Crowley drawled. ‘Uh, yeah. Drunk.’

‘Oh!’ Drinking alone, probably. Oh gosh, perhaps he had done more badly about Aziraphale’s silence than he had anticipated.

‘Whazzup?’ Crowley asked.

‘Uh, well, I am getting a little frustrated. I have been, um, thinking over where we could find Agnes’ book, but I am coming up empty. Of course, I have spent lifetimes searching for the first book, and that copy people knew existed! It’s all but impossible to find a copy nobody even knew existed- as far as we know the only one has been burned.’

‘Sounds like you’re ready for... uh, the next, next thing,’ Crowley said.

‘What next thing?’

‘In the, you know, five stages of grief, thing. First you were like nooo you pranked me it’s not real, and then you were like oooh, I’m so angryyy, and then you were like ‘we can fix this’, and now you’ll be sad, and then you’ll be like, okay, fine.’

‘You think I’ve been going through the Kübler-Ross model.’

‘Yup! Yeah.’

‘You’re quite aware that that model has not been backed by empirical research or evidence, and has been criticized for this within the academic community?’

‘Uh, don’t care. But you’re doing it, right! You were like nooo denial, and arrgg aa angry, and –’

‘So you’ve said,’ Aziraphale said, tersely. ‘So I suppose that means you have not been thinking about how to find the book, then?’

‘I have!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, but, I dunno. Time travel, maybe.’

‘Neither of us can do that.’

‘I know.’

It was silent for a moment. Aziraphale heard Crowley take a swig.

‘Can I come over?’ he couldn’t help but ask. It was really too painful to let Crowley drink on his own. 

‘Uhh,’ Crowley said. ‘It’s messy here.’

‘You don’t have any mess,’ Aziraphale said, thinking of Crowley’s mostly empty apartment.

‘It’s me, I’m the mess,’ Crowley said.

‘Oh, dear. I’m coming over.’

And so he did. As Crowley opened the door, it was clear that he had made a good decision, as the unhappiness rolled of his friend in waves, even if he greeted Aziraphale quite cheerfully. His glasses were askew, as if hastily shoved on. Aziraphale steered him back into the apartment with a hand on Crowley’s back, and summoned up a big nice couch in the vast, empty, uncomfortable space.

‘Bah,’ Crowley said. ‘That’s not right.’

‘Your apartment is the least comfortable place on earth. Now, come sit down with me.’

Crowley did, easily enough. He maintained his distance, though, as they had always done. Aziraphale decided, however, that Crowley needed a hug. He hummed a bit, awkwardly, and scooted over, wrapping an arm around Crowley’s shoulders.

‘ _What_ are you doing?’ Crowley demanded, going tense and rigid.

‘Just relax for a moment, my dear.’

‘Why?’

‘You seem upset.’ It was awkward, with Crowley’s rigid pose, but he kept his arm stubbornly in place. ‘Come on, it’s not difficult. Put your head here.’ He patted his chest. Crowley looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

‘What’s going on?’ the demon demanded again.

‘I am comforting you. Come on, now.’

Crowley frowned. A few terrifying moments of silence passed. Then he slowly slumped into Aziraphale’s touch, fitting himself against Aziraphale’s side. It was very snug, and Aziraphale liked it a great deal. He carefully stroke through the demon’s hair, and smiled when Crowley let out a soft sigh and nuzzled closer.

‘So,’ Aziraphale said, after some silence. ‘Why are you sad.’

‘M not sad,’ Crowley mumbled.

‘Dear boy, this did not seem like happy drinking.’

‘M not sad _now,_ ’ Crowley rectified. ‘And, and, I’m a demon. Demons don’t get sad! They get mad.’

Demons probably also didn’t cuddle with angels, but Aziraphale was kind enough not to point that out. He scratched the skin beneath Crowley’s hair, and smiled at the hum of contentedness.

‘Well, good. But I’d like you to tell me what the matter is.’

‘S nothing, ‘s fixed now, anyways,’ Crowley said.

Ah. So it was Aziraphale’s absence that had caused this. He didn’t quite know how to bring that up, without opening that entire can of worms, so to speak. He’d like to sort through the worms by himself, first. So he kept on petting Crowley’s hair, and mumbled something about being glad for it.

It wasn’t too long before Crowley was softly snoring on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale carefully tugged off the demon’s sunglasses, and then sat there and tried to examine and unwind his feelings. Perhaps, it was all quite simple. He knew he Loved Crowley. He wanted him happy. He wanted to be with him for Eternity. He felt warm when they saw each other. So. In his own opinion, their relationship already held a lot most elements of A Relationship. The only thing that would change was that they would acknowledge it, and perhaps they would introduce some more physicality. He found he did not mind either option.

By the time Crowley started to rouse, slowly, Aziraphale felt quite calm. Crowley, evidently, did not. At first, he seemed not to be quite aware of where he was. Then his eyes fell on Aziraphale’s coat, and he went rigid, before shooting upright, groaning and grabbing his head.

‘Oh, dear,’ Aziraphale said. He carefully reached out and brushed a hand over Crowley’s temple, making the effects of the hangover disappear. Crowley stared at him, full of disbelief.

Aziraphale blushed. ‘Well, after you healed my hand, it was only fair,’ he said.

Crowley looked away and nodded a bit, muttering ‘of course’ under his breath.

Ah. By saying that, Crowley probably thought it was another tit-for-tat thing, stemming from their Arrangement. ‘Besides,’ he added, quickly. ‘I can’t stand to see you suffer.’

Crowley looked at him again. He looked unsure, and wrong footed. ‘Uh, yeah. Thanks. You got my glasses?’

Aziraphale handed them over. ‘Do you need them, in here?’ he asked, as Crowley put them on.

Crowley shrugged, leaning back into the couch into his usual slouch. It was as if he’d put on a mask, and with putting on the sunglasses he’d slipped into his nonchalant uncaring persona. Perhaps that was exactly why he did it, to mask his feelings for Aziraphale. Perhaps he didn’t like the reminder of his demonic nature in front of an angel.

‘I quite like seeing your eyes, you know?’ Aziraphale said. ‘Don’t put them on for my sake.’

‘You’re being weird,’ Crowley said, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. ‘Why’re you being weird?’

‘I am not! I am just telling the truth.’

‘Right.’

It was quiet for a moment. Then Crowley took off his glasses again, and hooked them into his shirt, eyes averted. Aziraphale beamed at him, feeling like progress was made.

‘Would you like some tea?’ he asked. ‘Or- do you have a kitchen yet?’

‘Still no,’ Crowley said.

Aziraphale hummed, and looked around the sad, empty space. ‘Can I ask you something, dear?’

Crowley moved a hand, as if to say ‘go ahead’.

‘Why don’t you make it a little nicer here? It’s like you deliberately don’t want to feel at home. Only your room with the houseplants looks nice.’

‘I like this,’ Crowley sulked.

‘How can you?’ Aziraphale wondered. ‘Do you loathe the ‘shop, then?’

‘Huh? No,’ Crowley said. ‘I like the bookshop fine.’

Aziraphale hummed again. He wondered how that worked, then. He snapped his fingers, and a cute little table appeared, complete with tea and saucers and some little cucumber sandwiches. Crowley gave a snort, but leant forward to take up a cup of tea anyways.

‘Now, dear,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Would you please tell me why you were so upset yesterday?’

Crowley sighed and put the cup back down. ‘It’s nothing.’

Aziraphale took another moment to think. Getting this out of Crowley would be near impossible, probably, as the poor chap had been hiding for so long, and very sure of Aziraphale’s disinterest. However, to just tell him he knew everything would probably also be startling, and also admitting to eavesdropping. But perhaps a long conversation could wait. Perhaps he could take the human route, and just ‘make a move’, so to say. Yes, he supposed that would be nice. Perhaps he could take it easy- he had heard humans talk of the courting period as being a very fun one, if things weren’t too terribly complicated. Perhaps he could just court Crowley, until the demon caught on.

‘You should eat something, dear,’ he said, and took up a sandwich, bringing it up all the way to Crowley’s mouth. Crowley looked completely baffled again, and he raised his hand to slowly take the sandwich into his own hand.

‘You’re being so weird,’ he said, again, but he did eat. 

Aziraphale had to maybe study up on courtship. He thought about Anathema and Newt, who’d engaged within a year after meeting. Surely, Anathema would have some advice- only she was befriended with Crowley, so the chances of it getting to Crowley were there. Though he could be subtle, surely, pretend he was asking for a friend?


	3. Anathema’s advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale decides to reach out to Anathema for advice on courting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is in character for Anathema, she's hard to write

**Chapter 3: Anathema’s advice**

‘Aziraphale! What a surprise,’ Anathema greeted him.

‘Surely, it would not have been had you not burnt the prophecies,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Hello, dear. How are you?’

She looked properly chastised. ‘I’m great, how are you?’

‘Well enough, dear.’

She invited him in and gave him tea.

‘I’ve actually come by to ask you about the prophecies- now, I know, you don’t want to be a descendant forever, and such, but I should still like to find the second part of the prophecies. You would never need to see it, I can perfectly well hold on to it for you!’

This wasn’t a lie- Aziraphale had actually been thinking about the book a lot, and this visit could contain multiple purposes.

Anathema blinked. ‘Sure, but I burned them, so I don’t know...’

‘Yes, yes, but surely Agnes knew you would, and subsequently has made another version, which should be around somewhere. I am just wondering if you’d have any idea where?’

‘Why do you care so much?’ she asked.

‘Well, I am concerned for the fate of the world, and also for the fate of Crowley and myself.’

‘Crowley and you?’ she asked, leaning in with a glint in her eye.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You see, we defied Heaven and Hell, and we got a temporary reprieve from them by pretending to be each other and defying their punishments, but I cannot help but worry that they will not let us alone forever.’

‘Ah,’ she said, visibly disappointed but nodding all the same.

‘You had a different idea?’ he asked.

‘Uh, well. I thought- your lives have been guided by what you were supposed to do even more than mine, right? But now you don’t need to do Heaven’s bidding anymore, and he doesn’t do Hell’s, like I don’t need to do Agnes’. I figured you might be looking for some guidance coming from another direction, like Agnes’, as to what to do with your life now... And with each other.’

‘Each other?’

‘Yes,’ Ananthema nodded, enthusiastically. ‘Your relationship has been shaped by your Arrangement, right? But there’s no need for that anymore. So now what?’

‘Now what indeed,’ Aziraphale mused. She’d caught on to the very dilemma that had been plaguing him very quickly.

‘But you don’t need to find that in a book, Aziraphale! Well, not this book, anyways.’

‘What book, then?’

‘A romantic novel?’ she suggested, cheekily.

Aziraphale blushed, he couldn’t help it. ‘I think the specifics of our situation makes such a book rather insufficient.’

‘Which specifics?’

‘Well, the very things you’ve just mentioned. We’ve had our Arrangement for such a long time, it’s hard to think where to go next. Ours is such a significant bond, and we’ve never dared to name it anything, before.’

Anathema hummed. ‘Friends doesn’t suffice?’

‘He is my friend,’ Aziraphale said. But no, it didn’t.

‘Maybe- your bond is beyond the platonics?’

Aziraphale looked at her. She shifted a bit nervously in her seat, as if expecting a stern telling off from him.

‘Romantic,’ he said. She nodded. Well. He suppose he had come to the same conclusion himself, as well, and had already figured he’d like to start some sort of courtship. But it wouldn’t hurt, running it all past Anathema? Get some human perspective on it all.

‘What would you say that would entail between Crowley and me, would you say?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘Oh- uh. I mean, it would be completely up to you. How about, uh, I paint you a few pictures that tend to go together with a romantic relationship? And don’t worry if you don’t like it, that doesn’t automatically mean its not for you, it just differs per person.’

‘Alright,’ Aziraphale said.

‘So, firstly... It could mean that you and Crowley are gonna be open to each other about how much you mean to each other. Express it, do nice things for one another without needing to find excuses why you did it.’

Aziraphale smiled a bit. ‘Yes, I rather think it’s time for that.’

‘Good! Another thing... could be, calling each other pet names? But I suppose you already do.’

‘We do?’

‘He calls you angel, you call him dear,’ Anathema shrugged.

Aziraphale blushed. ‘Well, I am an angel. It’s not so much a pet name as a fact.’

Anathema raised her eyebrow at him, disbelieving. ‘Okay. How about things like kissing, cuddling?’

Aziraphale blushed even further. He had thought about it before, of course. When Crowley had pressed him against the wall, his nose to Aziraphale’s, Aziraphale hadn’t really been thinking so much about being threatened, as he had been thinking about other things. And earlier, too, when Crowley saved his books, he’d wanted to kiss him. When Crowley asked him, desperately, in his car if he could drop Aziraphale off somewhere, anywhere, he’d wanted to kiss them. And they had briefly cuddled when Crowley had been drunk, the other day. But other than that, there hadn’t been much physical contact. He wouldn’t mind, more of that. He wouldn’t mind kissing, either. He felt very curious what it’d be like.

‘Well, I take that as a yes. Sex?’

Aziraphale gaped at her a little, flustered.

‘Have you had sex?’

‘Well- uh -’

‘It doesn’t matter. Would you like to with Crowley?’

Aziraphale shifted in his seat, tugging at his collar, feeling very warm suddenly. He’d had sex, before. He had been a member of discreet gentlemen’s clubs, and he’d had some warm friendships there. Very warm indeed. He rather liked sex, too, yet another human pleasure he’d liked, but he didn’t crave it like he did food. He didn’t need it, and he was unbothered by the sexual desire or urges that seemed to drive humans wild at times, or at least frustrated when finding it unmet for a prolonged time. He had no such struggles. Thus, he hadn’t indulged in it often.

He had not actually thought about having sex with Crowley much, beyond the urge to kiss and hold him. But now that Anathema had raised the possibility, he noticed he was interested. Yes, rather. He tugged at his collar again.

Anathema looked very pleased with the situation so far.

‘Alright, mark that as a yes as well.’

‘Well, if Crowley is interested, too,’ Aziraphale hastened to add.

Anathema hummed, and seemed to actually consider whether he would. Hm, Aziraphale thought. Did that mean Crowley’s conversations with Anathema about his feelings had never indicated his sexual interest? That would be fine, too, of course. Different sort of earthly pleasures interested Crowley- such as sleeping. It was well possible they’d diverge here, as well.

‘Anyways,’ Anathema said. ‘Okay, so. How about living together?’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale thought about the single night he’d spend in Crowley’s house. They’d shared Crowley’s bed, though very modestly. ‘Why, yes,’ he said. ‘I would like that.’

‘Good! And marriage?’

Aziraphale looked over at her. ‘Ah, for complicated beings as ourselves, the legal paperwork would actually not mean much of anything...’

‘Doesn’t have to be a formal official marriage, it could be a more spiritual ceremony. Think of it like this- how’d you like it if Crowley called you his husband?’

Well. Judging by the warm feeling in his chest, quite a lot indeed.

‘I know it would be just ceremonial, and it wouldn’t change much between you- you’re bounded together forever already, it seems. But it’s just another matter of expressing it to each other.’

‘Well! Yes! But! Well- yes. But that’s going rather fast, don’t you think? I think, at first, I should court him.’

‘Court him?’ Anathema asked. ‘You could just tell him how you feel, right?’

‘Well, yes, but I’d rather ease him into it. Besides, I’ve heard it’s nice to be courted? I could do nice things for him, get him roses and the like. Don’t you think he’d like that?’

Anathema smiled at him, like he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Though he’ll probably ask a lot of questions.’

‘Yes, that’s Crowley, for you,’ Aziraphale nodded. ‘Alright, then. How does one go about courting?’


	4. Courting Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale flirts, and Crowley is rendered to a shy mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the most fun to write!

**Chapter 4: Courting Crowley**

It started out with a simple gift. A cute little cactus, with red hairs. Aziraphale supposed it was fitting, and privately thought it very funny. He visited Crowley the next day, and announced that he’d brought a little gift.

‘It’s a cactus,’ he announced proudly. ‘I suppose it will fit your collection! However, I know you tend to be rather mean to your plants. I hope you will be a little nicer to this one, for my sake.’

Crowley looked at him in puzzlement. ‘Uh, yeah, uh, thanks- Sure, if it behaves.’ The last word was accompanied with a warning glare to the cactus.

‘Now, really, be kind,’ Aziraphale said. ‘You can test if positive reinforcement works as well as yelling.’

He thrust forward the cactus, and Crowley took it from him. ‘Thanks. Uh, to what do I owe-?’

‘I just saw it and thought of you,’ Aziraphale said, beaming at him. Anathema had been very specific on that- let Crowley know he thought of him, and smile while saying so. Sure enough, Crowley fumbled a bit around with it, apparently unsure on how to seem grateful and maintain his nonchalant persona at the same time.

‘Can I come in?’ Aziraphale said, very pleased with himself.

‘Course, course,’ Crowley mumbled, walking in himself. To Aziraphale’s surprise, he didn’t put the cactus with his other plants. Rather, it got a rather honorary place on the stark desk in the ‘Throne Room’.

Step one had gone remarkably well.

\--  
Step two was something they’d done often, technically, which was going out together. As they’d so often already gone out to eat together, Aziraphale thought they should do something else, which still had the general vibe of a date, together. So he had suggested going to a Shakespeare play, at the Globe, also for nostalgic reasons. They went to see Henry V.

Due to Crowley’s absolute inability to sit straight in any chair, he was leaning rather onto the armrest between them, his long legs twisted awkwardly into the limited space between seats for them to go. Aziraphale took advantage of this by also leaning a little towards the armrest, which had as effect that their shoulders were pressed together.

And while Crowley was also quite incapable of sitting still for any amount of time, he stayed perfectly still during the entire play. Aziraphale rather thought that was a sign of a resounding success.

A bit of Anathema’s advice was to instigate innocent touches a lot, so he felt like this was a point in that book. Knowing that Crowley loved him and had been waiting for this made it a lot less nerve wrecking. He asked less questions than expected- perhaps he felt like acknowledging it might make it go away. That was rather sad and made Aziraphale want to give in and just confess Crowley’s feelings were reciprocated, but he also liked the thrill in the air. He just hoped Crowley did, too.

After the play, in any case, Crowley looked quite wrecked to give up their proximity, and there was a great vulnerability in his eyes. He shielded it, but Aziraphale had seen it in the few seconds it was there.

‘How’d you like it?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘I still like the funny ones better,’ Crowley said. His voice was hoarse, and he immediately looked embarrassed.

Aziraphale smiled at him, and enjoyed the blush on Crowley’s cheeks.

\--

Another thing- step three- Anathema had advised Aziraphale on was a bit trickier- to create some moments in which it would be very possible for them to kiss- to let his eyes linger, just too long, on Crowley’s lips. Apparently, the charged air of possibility was a very exciting part of the courting period. Aziraphale was a bit nervous about this, because Crowley would surely ask him what he was doing, and it would be a little embarrassing to explain. However, Crowley had asked little questions yet, and seemed to just turn shy from the newfound attentions.

It was very endearing.

Thus, Aziraphale embarked on the next step in courting Crowley. First, he had to find excuses to be up in Crowley’s space.

‘I’d like to learn to waltz,’ he announced.

‘Huh?’ Crowley asked, from on Aziraphale’s couch. They were doing some social drinking. Instead of sitting in his desk chair, Aziraphale had opted to sit next to Crowley on the couch. Every now and then, their legs brushed. At one occasion, their thighs had been pressed together for an extended time, as Aziraphale pretended to have to show Crowley something in a book. He felt rather certain that was the reason that Crowley had downed the glass he’d been holding in one go.

‘Waltz. Some centuries ago I learned the gavotte, but it’s gone out of style, unfortunately.’

‘Uh, the waltz isn’t any more in style than the gavotte, angel,’ Crowley said, incredulous.

‘Well, it is not popular, but there are still ballroom dance lessons given, as well as balls.’

‘Which you don’t go to.’

‘I could, provided I learned to waltz!’ Aziraphale said.

‘You’d need a partner,’ Crowley said. He sounded very displeased. Aziraphale had to bite back a grin. Now that he knew of Crowley’s interest, he found it quite predictable.

‘Well, yes,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Perhaps I could attend another gentlemen’s club to learn the waltz and find a partner.’

Crowley put down his glass, incredulous. ‘Gentlemen’s club? This is different than the gavotte, angel, waltz adheres to a – uh, more binary idea of gender.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you present yourself as male, to human eyes, so your partner would have to be someone female presenting. You won’t find that at a gentlemen’s club.’

‘Oh, no, quite right. Still, I think the world of ballroom dancing will have gotten with the times, no? Surely, they wouldn’t object to me having a male partner.’

Crowley shrugged, looking at his glass. ‘You’ve got a preference, then?’ It was more a mumble than spoken, like Crowley couldn’t help himself from uttering the question despite not really wanting to. Aziraphale briefly wondered that if he’d said he preferred female presenting beings, Crowley would start presenting himself as female again. Probably not, though, it would be rather too obvious. Aziraphale didn’t, anyways, so no need to find out.

‘Hm? Oh, I suppose it doesn’t quite matter.’

Crowley peeked up at him, squinting a little as if trying to figure him out. His sunglasses were off, again, on Aziraphale’s insistence. Aziraphale smiled, and Crowley blushed again, breaking eye contact and looking at his glass again. That made things difficult, Crowley’s tendency to avoid eye contact in these more vulnerable moments. Aziraphale’s eyes could linger all they wanted, he wasn’t going to see it.

‘Can you waltz?’ Aziraphale asked him.

‘Uh, no,’ Crowley said, sounding appalled at the idea. ‘Nah. Imagine that, a demon, waltzing.’

‘Hm,’ Aziraphale smiled, and he did imagine it. ‘Shame, you could have taught me. And it’d have saved me a lot of trouble with having to find a partner.’

Crowley looked up again. Aziraphale felt rather like he had taken over Crowley’s task of Tempting, with this. But Crowley seemed at a loss, strung between his pride and wanting to be the one Aziraphale would dance with, instead of with some stranger.

‘Perhaps I have a book on the subject!’ Aziraphale said, putting one hand on the armrest and the other on Crowley’s knee to push himself up from the couch. Maybe one of his hands lingered for a moment, and then he went to one of his book shelfs at random.

It took Crowley a moment to recover, but then he spluttered- ‘You- you don’t find that sort of stuff in books, angel.’

‘You can find anything in books, my dear.’

‘No, no, listen, look,’ Crowley said, holding up his hand. He took out his mobile phone, keeping his one hand up, and within a few seconds opened up a video.

‘Come here,’ he said. ‘Look.’

Aziraphale did, walking over and sitting next to Crowley on the armrest of the couch, leaning into his space to see the small screen. The video was called ‘How to Waltz For Beginners’.

‘We’re all gonna do it together,’ said the man on the screen. ‘I want you to join us at home, and do it with us right here.’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale said, standing up. ‘Okay! Come on, then!’

Crowley spluttered some protests, but he did get up when Aziraphale softly took his hand and pulled him upright, without any attempt to hold back.

‘Okay, guys, you’re gonna follow me, and ladies, you’re gonna follow Kim,’ the man on the screen announced.

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale said again. ‘Do you have a preference?’

‘You choose, it’s your thing,’ Crowley mumbled. Oh, he was so shy like this. Aziraphale adored him.

‘Right, um. I shall follow the gent, then.’

They did the steps. Unfortunately, it was still side to side, and there was no touching involved yet. However, as the video went on, the pair joined hands. First, they both watched how the pair did it. But then the gent said ‘now we want you to do it with us!’, and Aziraphale excitedly turned to Crowley, who looked very much like a deer- or snake- in headlights. Well. Aziraphale had to earn his status as ‘just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing’, right?

So Aziraphale lifted his hands expectedly, and Crowley, sure enough, laid his phone on Aziraphale’s desk and stepped forward, into Aziraphale’s hold. They started moving to the distant counting of the man on the screen.

It wasn’t very hard, and they got it quickly enough. Crowley avoided his gaze, though. ‘Don’t look at your feet,’ the man on the screen reminded them, fortunately enough. Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale, who smiled at him and increased the pressure on Crowley’s back just a little, tugging him a little closer.

‘This is nice,’ he said, his voice softer. Crowley swallowed visibly, and his eyes, which had been darting around, focused on him again. Aziraphale let his eyes fall to Crowley’s mouth, and despite it being a premeditated move, he did find himself severely tempted to close the space between them. Crowley’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed again, and Aziraphale glanced back up to his eyes. Crowley’s pupils had dilated completely, there was a blush on his cheekbones and he was staring at Aziraphale in astonishment. Aziraphale’s eyes darted back to his lips, quite of his own accord, and Crowley promptly stumbled over his own feet and onto Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale laughed softly as he caught him. ‘Careful,’ he said, still soft.

‘Sorry,’ Crowley mumbled. His eyes were averted again.

‘No harm done,’ Aziraphale said, and they resumed their steps.

After a while, he spoke again. ‘Imagine that,’ he said. ‘A demon, waltzing.’


	5. Of declarations and deliveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley acts like a Hopeless Romantic with Lovesickness, and Aziraphale takes it all a step further, the smooth bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about Part Two of the Prophecies, I swear, just wait for it

**Chapter 5** **: Of declarations and deliveries**

The next time Aziraphale called Crowley in order to meet up, Crowley said he couldn’t make it.

‘Why not?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘I, uh, need a nap,’ Crowley said. He sounded strange.

Aziraphale felt himself tense up with worry. ‘A nap? My dear fellow, you aren’t going to sleep for a century again, are you?’

‘No, no,’ Crowley said. ‘Just a few days, or something. Maybe a week.’

‘Is something the matter?’ Aziraphale asked, worried.

‘No, don’t worry, angel,’ Crowley said, but he sounded subdued. ‘Ah. Uh. You, um. I just need this, sometimes.’

‘A whole week?’

‘It’s nothing compared to a century,’ Crowley mumbled.

‘No, quite right. Do you- would you like company, during?’

‘Company? Angel, you know what sleeping is, don’t you?’

‘No, I know. But while you slept I could read some books, keep busy. You just wouldn’t be alone for it.’

It was silent for a while on the other end. ‘That’s uh, that’s nice of you,’ Crowley said. He sounded so soft, and tired. ‘But no thanks. I’ll call you, okay?’

‘Alright, then,’ Aziraphale said, soft as well. ‘Sleep well.’

‘Thanks.’

And the line went dead. Aziraphale wrung his hands nervously. He knew Crowley was prone to depressive episodes, though it had taken him a while to recognize them for what they were. To be honest, it took until the eleven years spend as nanny and gardener for Warlock that he truly recognized it. Before that, Crowley had been able to hide most of it. Even if sleeping through a century had been a bit of a red flag.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but think this one was on him, though. Perhaps he was confusing Crowley too much, and should have just declared his intentions sooner.

He called Anathema.

‘Aziraphale,’ she greeted, cheerfully.

‘Hello, dear,’ he said. ‘I was wondering if you’ve been in touch with Crowley lately.’

‘He’s been texting,’ she said, with a chuckle. ‘I’m not going to tell you what, though.’

‘No, no, certainly,’ Aziraphale said, though he had hoped she would. He was very curious what Crowley’s thoughts were and what he may have said. ‘Um. I’ve been following your advice. But he’s now just gone to sleep for a week, and I am worried I may be the cause. Perhaps it’s been too stressful, for him, the uncertainty.’

‘Oh,’ Anathema said. ‘Right. I think he’s being a little dramatic. Or he’s being Romantic, with a capital R.’

‘Romantic?’

‘Yes, you know like Romantic poets would be like ‘the love of my life looked upon me today, and I have become overcome with fever ever since’, or something,’ Anathema said. ‘You glanced at his lips and he needs to have a lie down for a week? That’s dramatic, Aziraphale.’

Aziraphale let out a bit of a hysterical giggle. ‘Oh, dear. Oh, but he sounded very tired.’

‘Well, he can be dramatic and mean it,’ Anathema said fairly.

‘Do you think I should declare my intentions, next I see him?’

‘I think you should do another one of those ‘are we gonna kiss’ moments, but then actually do it,’ Anathema said. ‘I honestly think he might swoon. And then after, you can both confess your feelings.’

‘Ah,’ Aziraphale said, tugging at his collar. ‘Okay. Thank you for the advice, again.’

‘No worries. You’re doing great, by the way. Don’t worry about Crowley’s dramatics.’

‘I shall try.’

. . .

Regardless, it was a very long week. After exactly a week, Aziraphale decided to go over to Crowley’s. Treat him to a bit of breakfast in bed. Despite Crowley not being prone to eating, he would surely appreciate the coffee? Sleeping was a human habit, and so was drinking coffee afterwards.

He rang the doorbell, and waited patiently, tray with croissants, orange juice and coffee in his hands. He’d put a little rose in a vase on it, as well.

It took some time for Crowley to come and answer the door. When he did, he looked like he had just woken up, and had thrown on some sunglasses, then came to answer the door. He was in boxers and a t-shirt, nothing else. Aziraphale blushed.

‘Ah, uh, good morning,’ he announced. ‘I’ve come to bring you some breakfast!’

‘You’ve come to bring me breakfast,’ Crowley repeated, sounding amused and also like he had just woken up and was sleepy. However, he did sound a little more like himself, instead of the shy version of himself whenever Aziraphale expressed open affection.

‘Yes! May I come in?’

Crowley gestured to do so, and turned to walk in himself. Aziraphale followed and smiled widely when he saw that the couch and table he had manifested there a while back were still there.

‘You kept them!’

‘Well, uh, yeah,’ Crowley did his characteristic stammer. ‘Figured you’d make a fuss otherwise.’

‘Quite right,’ Aziraphale smiled. ‘Would you like your breakfast in bed?’

‘In bed?’

‘Yes, it’s what the humans like, right? Breakfast in bed.’

Crowley looked at him incredulously, the effect of which was only ruined by a yawn.

‘See, you’re still sleepy. Come on, then, you can snooze a bit.’ Aziraphale wandered into the apartment, quite convinced he’d find the bedroom eventually. Crowley saved him the trouble by saying an exasperated ‘this way, angel,’ and leading the way.

Aziraphale had never been in Crowley’s bedroom before, which had a large bed with black bedding. Aziraphale saw gleefully that the cactus he gifted had been placed in the nightstand next to the bed. Other than that there was a large walk-in closet. Aziraphale pushed down the urge to go take a look whether Crowley had held on to his outfits of through the centuries. It was quite unnecessary, as they could just miracle clothing to look like they wanted to, but it was very Crowley to hold on to outfits, somehow. It was also somewhat comforting- while Crowley changed his style with the fashion, the fact that he had a closet filled with clothes told Aziraphale that he did not discard those items as fast as it seemed.

They made themselves comfortable on the large bed. Crowley still seemed his usual self, without the shyness or softness. He propped himself up on the headboard, and sprawled out his legs, and took a coffee.

‘Thanks, angel,’ he said.

‘My pleasure!’ Aziraphale said, lying down on the bed as well, on his side facing Crowley, propping himself up on his elbow.

‘That can’t be comfortable,’ Crowley noted, nodding towards him.

‘What, this position?’

‘No, this position in all your- ’ Crowley suddenly blushed and coughed. ‘Uh. Layers.’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale said, looking down at himself and back up. Well- Crowley had basically asked for it. He tugged loose his bow tie, shrugged off his jacket and removed his waistcoat. ‘There! Better?’

Crowley was staring at him, looking a bit dazed. ‘Uh,’ he said. ‘Shoes, too.’

Aziraphale beamed at him, and took those off as well. It was quite right that it was way more comfortable, like this, and he voiced that cheerfully as he lied back down. He took up a croissant and bit into it happily.

Crowley downed his coffee promptly, and then let his head fall back against the headboard. Aziraphale imaged his eyes had falled closed, but his sunglasses were still on. Aziraphale reached out, and hesitated with his hand in the air.

‘Don’t startle,’ he warned, and then slowly tugged them off. Crowley slowly opened his eyes, and met Aziraphale’s. He hadn’t startled.

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a nice moment. Aziraphale let his eyes fall to Crowley’s lips, again, and Crowley bit his lip, slowly dragging his teeth across his lower lip. 

Oh. That was new. Aziraphale looked up again to see if it had been on purpose. Crowley looked shy, and vulnerable, and desperately wanting.

‘Are you quite finished with sleeping for now?’ Aziraphale asked, softly.

‘Yeah, yes,’ Crowley mumbled. His eyes were now focused on Aziraphale’s lips. He felt a thrill pulse through his body, and enjoyed that thoroughly. He slowly pushed the breakfast tray out of the way, and itched even closer.

‘Good,’ he said, even softer, glancing back up at Crowley’s eyes, the dilated pupils. ‘Because I missed you.’

And then he closed the distance, bringing a hand up to cup Crowley’s face and softly kissing his lips. Crowley whimpered, which was adorable, and then, inexplicably, snapped his fingers.

Aziraphale broke away for a second, looking at him questioning. Crowley blushed. ‘Brushed my teeth,’ he said.

‘That’s very considerate,’ Aziraphale said, with a hysterical giggle.

Crowley smiled at him. It was a rare smile- open, and happier than Aziraphale had ever seen it. He couldn’t help but lean in again, and Crowley met his kiss again. While the first kiss had been very soft and tentative, Crowley now brought his hands up around Aziraphale’s shoulders, one sliding into his hair, and tugged him closer. The kiss became more open mouthed, and Crowley tasted like toothpaste.

Aziraphale edged himself closer still, somehow ending up half on top of Crowley.

‘I’m not squishing you, am I?’ he asked between kisses.

‘Squish me more,’ Crowley said, against his lips, and then they were kissing again. Aziraphale pushed his hand up Crowley’s hair, and tugged a little bit. He felt Crowley shudder, and smiled against his lips. He felt giddy as Crowley laughed too, a little, instead of growling for being laughed at.

And then they didn't talk for a while.

. . .  
  


‘Crowley,’ Aziraphale said, later, still in bed.

‘Angel?’

‘I love you,’ he said.

Crowley pressed him closer, and took a deep breath. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes. I have loved you for a very long time. Only recently, I’ve realized we can do something with it now. We can acknowledge it.’

‘I’ve loved you from the start,’ Crowley said, reverently. He sounded close to tears.

Aziraphale looked up and kissed him again, softly. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I know now.’

Crowley smiled through his tears, and linked their fingers together. It was comfortably silent for a while, and every once in a while they gave each other soft kisses.

‘Angel?’ Crowley asked after a while.

‘Hmm?’

‘How’d you- why- the flirting. Uh. What was that about?’

Aziraphale giggled, and Crowley laughed a little. ‘Well, dear, I thought it might be fun.’

‘Fun.’ Crowley laughed, then, again. ‘You almost killed me, angel.’

‘Hmm,’ Aziraphale said, nosing his neck. ‘You’re dramatic. But I’m glad it was effective.’

Crowley snorted, and hugged him closer still. They laid quite comfortably for a while again, but they didn’t sleep. Crowley traced his fingers over Aziraphale’s body, in the same reverence as he’d declared his love.

Then, inexplicably, the doorbell rang. Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look. Crowley then shrugged, and laid back down.

‘Dear?’

‘Ignore ‘em,’ Crowley said.

‘Oh, perhaps it’s important,’ Aziraphale said, and he got up. He placated Crowley’s unhappy grunts with some kisses, snapped his fingers so he was clothed properly once more, and went to the door.

It was their familiar postman.

‘Package for you, sir! And a message,’ he smiled.

‘A message?’

‘Yes, it’s just this, uh; When Angel and Deville at last declare theyr love, thif gift shalle reach them as congratulations. Get sum.’

Aziraphale blushed bright red and grapped the package quickly. ‘Thank you, thank you. Uh, yes, quite. Good man. Uh.’

‘Have a great day!’ declared the postman, with a wink, holding out something to sign for him. Aziraphale did, before closing the door promptly.

In his hands, then, finally, the sequal of Agnes Nutter’s prophecies. He looked at it, with wide eyes. From the bedroom, Crowley called out ‘Angel?’ and he smiled, setting the prophecies aside. They could wait. There was nothing he was wondering about, right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two, Crowley's POV: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21532873/chapters/51329284


End file.
